“this is so us!”
Damian x male!reader
Male reader and Damian seeing a black cat hiss at them. The black cat moves in front of a brown one, seeming to protect it as its green eyes turn into slits. Damian glares at the black cat as you just stand behind him weirded out.
“Dude…it’s like..us. But cats.” You say jokingly, moving to the brown cat who seemed to warm up immediately to you. You cooed at it as Damian and the black cat still glare at each other.
“Dami stop it!” You say, the brown cat also hissed at the black cat as well. Making the two black haired/fur beings look at the two and behave. Damian scoffed as the cat just meowed deeply as well. Moving towards the brown cat who seemed to purr at the black one. You started to put the brown cat down.
Damian immediately grabs your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he just mumbles in Arabic. Probably cursing bout that cat, he loves animals. But that animal was an asshole.
But so was he.
Batfam
• Family Knows Best / Part 2 (Platonic Yandere Batfam x m!reader)
•Smothered (Platonic Yandere x m!reader)
•Lost In Pages (Platonic Yandere x bookworm m!reader)
•Snuggled In (Platonic Yandere x m!reader)
•The Man In Red (Platonic batfam x m!reader)
•Held Tight (Platonic Yandere x m!reader)
Hehehe 😊😘
Summary: Your escape from Joker doesn't go unnoticed, and you bear the consequences of attracting the attention of the bats.
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.
----
Burning green blinded him, searing his veins and twisting. His very breath was strained, broken and turning into what he could only describe as boiling rage.
He did the only thing he could do.
Murder the clown.
Strike after strike bore down upon the clown’s heaving body, his guns left behind on the floor, long forgotten. Any little trick up the clown's sleeve was swiftly discarded by Jason’s primal force.
The clown’s leg was held in his gloved hands, he twisted, pulling and pulling until there was an abrupt snap. The other leg was subject to the whims of his iron toe boots, breaking under the pressure.
He itched and burned to do more, fists turning into a flurry of blows upon the now unconscious clown. The clown could still cry out in pain, and that satisfied him.
Jason kept going, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, not until he wrapped his hands around and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and the clown finally popped.
Jason let out a breath, hands forming into an instinctive fist and aimed, until hands wrapped around his arms to pull him back.
He struggled, trying to jab out with his elbow to no avail. A voice interrupted the Green, calling out to him.
“Jason! Jason, come on!” The voice called out, demanding and desperate and somehow just enough for him to break through.
“Steph…?” He mumbled, regaining focus of the world around him. There was blood on his gloves.. his boots too.
The clown as if a train had run him over- several times. Every part of his face was bruised, green, purple and black. His limbs were in no better shape, twisted and broken into pieces that seemed like agony for doctors to put back together.
He didn't envy Joker’s recovery period.
“Shit..” Batgirl muttered, at his side. “Batman won't be happy about this.”
“Fuck Batman.” Was his instinctive response.
“Indeed..” She replied. “Well… I’ll take him back to Arkham, or actually, to the nearest doctor that won’t try to finish him off. Cass?”
A sudden movement in the shadow (that definitely didn't make Jason jump) revealed Cass, as she walked closer, a golden cage in one of her hands and Jason’s soul form in the other.
“Hurt.” Cass stated, pointing down at his soul form. Jason whistled, looking at the damage.
His soul form had always been a durable little thing, no doubt a result of his own upbringing, but this amount of damage was definitely rare. The bird’s wings were twisted, a sign that they were broken, and its breaths were slightly ragged, indicating some internal injuries.
It’d be alright, ultimately. Soul animals healed much faster than humans, as a result of them being magic.
He was mostly just glad he had bond distancing training, feeling those injuries wouldn't be fun at all. There was a dull pain in his back already, no doubt a result of his soul form’s injuries.
He sighed, kicking at the clown a bit as he did so. “Well that’s a problem.”
“Your soul animal shouldn't be out of the cave Hood, how did it get here?” Batgirl spoke, turning to look at Orphan, as the hero unlocked the cage a bat was glooming in.
“And how did Bats get here either? Out of all of us, he's had the best training, his soul animal should know the most about how important it is to our identities for them to not leave.” Batgirl frowned, confusion painted on her face.
Batman’s soul animal flitted up to rest on Orphan’s shoulder, a vision of silent solitude. Orphan gave it a little scritch on its ears.
Jason paused, considering how to word what he was about to say. The Green had mostly cleared up, but it still fogged him a little, especially as he thought of the scene he witnessed.
“There was a civilian, Joker’s victim. Tied to a chair and about to be smashed on the head by a crowbar. My soul animal appeared and took the hit.” He stuck to the facts, they were wasting too much time as is. Damn, if not for the pit rage he could have found them by now!
Batgirl gasped. Orphan shifted a little. “Wait, do you think..?” Batgirl struggled to voice the question, knowing how much it meant to them all.
“Yes.” Jason answered, blunt. “That was our soulmate.”
Abrupt movement from the window interrupted their shock, as Red Robin swooped in with a brisk move.
“Hey.” Red Robin called out, taking in their depressed faces. He paused. “What happened?”
—-
You were not having a good night. Your head hurt, your feet ached, and you would basically give anything at this point to get back home and collapse on your bed. Nothing had gone the way you had hoped for. In fact, it was now the absolute worst case scenario, other than being dead.
Now you have been exposed to two of your soulmates, potentially all of them now if they were feeling like sharing that information.
Oh and of course, you couldn't forget the Joker. Your newly acquired head injury certainly wouldn't be forgetting about it anytime soon.
You groaned, the world before you turning into brief spinning fuzz, as you trudged on.
“Why me…” You muttered, narrowly avoiding stepping in some rain water. You walked through an alleyway, vaguely guessing the direction of your house. In all honesty, you had barely the slightest inkling of where you were at this point, but you had to try.
The shadows behind you stirred, and you whipped around, making eye contact with one of your worst nightmares. Nightwing.
You shifted backwards, aiming to run away, but he caught onto the fleeing posture of your stance.
“Hey! Hey, calm down.” He spoke reassuringly, as if he was talking to a scared citizen. “I'm not going to hurt you. The inmates of Arkham Asylum have broken out, and it's not safe to be roaming the streets right now.”
He smiled, a charming little gesture, and held a hand out to you. “I can take you home, you'll be safer indoors.”
You shook your head, words failing to escape in your fear of this new problem.
He frowned. “I’m sorry but, I'm going to have to insist. It's really not safe. I’d hate for you to get hurt.” He perked up a little as he spoke the next few words. “Are you injured? I know someone who can help, her name is Leslie, she's a very safe doctor. Or if you don't have anywhere to go, I can escort you to a safe place?”
You shook your head desperately. You wanted nothing more than to get away. Your legs were shaking.
Any further time spent in the presence of your soulmates was a risk. At any point one of them could tell him and you'd be doomed. Hell, he might already know!
“I… I want to leave.” The words tumbled out, clumsy. “But not with you.”
The smile stayed on his face this time, plastered on. “It won’t be an inconvenience-” He tried.
“Please leave me alone.”
“It's really unsaf-”.
“Please leave me alone.”
“It will only take five-”.
“I said LEAVE ME ALONE!” You screamed, frustration and agony eclipsing into a fearful shout. You regretted it immediately, as it echoed through the streets. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your breath ran short.
Nightwing stood there, finally looking unsure. A part of you reveled in it, finally seeing how you always felt around them reflected on their form.
A fluttering sound broke the uncomfortable silence, a little robin flying down onto Nightwing’s shoulder.
“Robin..?” He muttered, more to himself than you. “Why are you here?”.
You meant to take the opportunity for what it was, to turn and run while you had the chance, but beady eyes turned towards you at the first movement you made.
Robin fluttered towards you, landing on your trembling hand. It gave a little coo, tilting its head a bit to stare at you. It seemed like it noticed your anxiety. It was admittedly a very cute gesture, something that acted like a balm to your scratched and raw mental state, but it didn't last for long.
“Wait…”.
Your blood froze in your veins. Everything stopped.
“Are… are you…?”
You couldn't respond to his question. Your head spun, an undercurrent of anxiety questioning every option you could make. Your shakes increased. It was noticeable.
“Ah, hey!” It seemed he spotted it. “Don’t worry so much, I know you're so terrified because of what's going on, but now I know I can keep you safe.” His hands grabbed yours, a constricting grip. You tried to take a step back, but he kept you there, not budging from his grasp. Robin shifted a little in displeasure.
“We… can keep you safe.” His eyes beamed into yours, trying to convey a feeling of safety, of reassurance.
You were numb to everything but terror.
“I've told you this once.” You muttered. “And I didn't want to say it again.” You ripped his hands from yours, pushing him away. You grabbed Robin.
“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!” You screamed, primal agony laced in your tone, your last efforts giving out.
Then, in a moment of desperation, you grabbed Robin, your littlest soul animal. And you threw him at Nightwing’s face.
His startled scream was music to your ears, as you raced out of the alleyway and down the street. If you were lucky, maybe Robin would be startled enough to give him a few scratches.
Things were finally, finally looking up. It had taken a lot. Gosh, it has taken so much from you. You couldn't go home anymore, both vigilante and villain now knew your name, but at the very least…
You could escape.
It was a mantra you chanted to yourself.
“I can escape. I can escape. I can escape.”
It remained in your brain as you ducked under windows and hid behind cars.
I can escape I can escape I can escape.
A slip of blue in the shadows was your only warning, before cruel pain pierced your arm.
“Ack!” You clutched at it, noticing what could only be a dart now embedded in you. You ripped it out as you ran, hoping that would be it.
IcanescapeIcanescapeIcanescape-
The world started falling to pieces before your very eyes, a black void stealing the places of buildings, cars, wherever you looked.
Your rush turned into a stumble.
Escape-escape-escape-
You were limping through an alleyway when your limbs finally gave up on you. The adrenaline finally losing to the tranquiliser.
“Escape…” You mumbled.
You glanced up.
A dark shadow was the only thing you could see. A giant figure, clad in a long cape.
A resentful part of you thought that the cape would be a rather warm thing to snuggle up to.
A hand reached out from the darkness.
You passed out.
----
Happy Halloween!!
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! Actually, there won't be too many chapters left now, we're coming to the end of Reader's struggle. Ofc, I will be going extra's that aren't actual chapters, and they'll have some extra details that are excluded from Reader's pov.
Also, I definitely have to apologise for how long this one took. I do have my reasons! Had an ear infection, then a holiday (that was pretty neat actually) and currently I have COVID lol. So I was a bit busy there.
But Halloween deserves to be celebrated just as much as everyone deserves another chapter, so here you go!
It is a bit of a shame I won't be able to make an actual Halloween piece. Maybe I'll make something a few days after Halloween? How do people feel about a coraline inspired DC oneshot?
Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger
@sociallyakwardpanda @imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu @snowy-violet @nommingonfood @yandere-enthusiast @nb-babygirl @demonqueen-1 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @winter67890-blog
Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. I'll add the others in a comment!
Jason Todd/Red Hood Masterlist
* = Explicit/NSFWAA = African-American
🗣️ | Submission | Male Reader | 🗣️
🔴 *| NSFW Alphabet |* 🔴
🩳 | Domestic Living With Jason | College Male Reader | 🩳
🥰 | Protective Lover | College Male Reader | 🥰
❤️🔥 *| Puppy Love | College Male Reader |* ❤️🔥
🤬 *| Rag Doll | Male Reader |* 🤬
🏍️ *| The Rebel | Omega Male Reader |* 🏍️
🥷🏻 *| Remember | Meta Male Reader |* 🥷🏻
❌ | Safer With Me | Male Darling Reader | ❌ (YANDERE)
👏🏻 | Sassy Man Jason | College Male Reader | 👏🏻
🪢 *| Take Care Of Me | AA Omega Male Reader |* 🪢
Five + One Series | College Male Reader | *| Rescuing 💪🏻 | * | Protective 🛡️ | | TikTok 🤳🏽 |
The shield that prevents ghosts from entering or leaving doesn't work, but no one has told them that. Ergo, the cell and the cuffs don't actually work. Except this time when they throw him in the cell, there's a child.
It's a kid, maybe as old as Dani, wearing a Superman hoodie/cape, curled into a little ball in the corner and quietly sobbing. He needs to calm the kid down before he escapes like normal, or the kid's crying is gonna alert the guards.
Normally, Danny phases his hand through the electrical box and destroys the wires, then just phases through the floor and leaves. This serves two functions; it tricks the guards into thinking the issue is with the smoking wires, thereby not alerting them to the busted shield, and also it prevents Danny from having to deal with them if he just phases away from his problems.
This time, he floats over to the kid.
"Hey. Hey, I'm Phantom. Who're you?" He asks gently, reaching out cuffed hands to awkwardly pat the kid on the back.
The kid sniffs.
"...Superboy."
"....Wow, you got really small-"
"-No! I'm not small! And not that one, the. The other one."
Danny frowns, trying to think of any other Superboyyyyyy Oh!
"You're my little sisters favorite one!"
The kid looks up from his knees, eyes wet and jeans damp. There's a collar on his neck, glowing a soft green and illuminating inflamed veins above and below it.
It feels like a bastardized version of ectoplasm, and it's probably what's crippling a Kryptonian child from just punching his way out.
It also doesn't feel like something Danny can phase off of the kid.
"Really?" Superboy asks, voice wobbly.
"Yeah, she loves you! Always brings you up when we argue over who's the best hero."
"Who. Who's yours?"
"Impulse, hands down."
"What? What's he got that I don't h-"
The entire building shakes, knocking Danny and Superboy out of their conversation, and prompting Danny to play shield after shoving the kid to the ground.
Then the ceiling ripped off.
Superman himself hovers above them, eyes smoking red and face far more pissed than Danny had ever seen him show to the cameras.
Even though Danny knows there's no way Superman is mad at him, being subjected to that glare is tricking his brain into thinking the papa bear is mad at him.
"...So we should probably remove the collar from him before you kill me," Danny says, voice a little higher than he would like to admit.
With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)
Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.
If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏
The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.
You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.
“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.
“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.
“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.
How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?
You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.
“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.
“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.
“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”
“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”
“Im guessing its about–”
“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”
“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.
“Kill me? Eat me?”
She nodded.
You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”
“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.
“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”
“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”
“I’m aware.”
Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on.
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.
You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?
“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!
“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.
The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.
“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”
And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.
“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.
“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.
“Sorry, dumb question.”
“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.
Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.
Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”
Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.
Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”
“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”
As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.
When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.
But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.
The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.
You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.
“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.
Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.
“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”
Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.
You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.
Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.
The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?
You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless.
As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline
Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.
“Im gonna kill myself.”
“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.
You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.
“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”
“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.
“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”
Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.
Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.
Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”
“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”
You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.
“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.
Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”
Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”
You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.
Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”
You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”
Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”
The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.
“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.
“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”
You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”
Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.
“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.
“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.
The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.
Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.
“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.
“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.
You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile.
“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.
“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.
“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.
“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.
As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.
You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.
You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.
As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.
Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.
“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”
You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.
“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”
He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”
The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.
Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”
The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.
You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.
Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”
“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.
Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.
“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”
The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.
With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.
The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.
“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.
“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.
The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.
You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.
Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.
“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.
“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”
“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”
The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.
“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”
You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”
As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.
The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.
As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.
You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.
As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.
With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.
“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”
“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.
As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.
You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.
“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.
“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”
Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”
You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”
“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”
The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.
The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.
Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.
Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”
“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.
“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.
“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”
Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”
You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.
The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.
“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”
The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.
“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.
Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.
You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.
“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”
He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.
“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.
“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.
Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.
“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”
He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”
Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.
“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”
You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.
“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”
You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.
You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.
Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.
[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]
spiderwocky ── spiderverse x spiderman!reader x batfamily
( sd. 03-25 ) " i'll take to believing this is the only outcome, the only universe for me. if i had another option, would i take it? no. this is the only option for me. "
# plotline. being spiderman has its challenges, but you can't lie, it's a massive improvement from your life before. for once; you feel like you belong here. this is what you were meant to be.
but things start to go wrong when seven steady months of operating as SPI//der are interrupted by a multi-universal society of other spider-people like you, and just as suddenly as you were found, you're lost again.
but questions start getting answered, faces lurking in the shadows come to light, and you're found by the very people who abandoned you before. remember what you promised? no one gets hurt again, not at your hand.
important note: batfam and spiderverse are equally involved. this means there's a period of time with more focus on spiderverse, and then more on batfam.
based on this concept
# chapters. no upload schedule
˖ 𑣲 prologue: kid-buggy
⋆ chapter one: spideybot
⋆ chapter two: keeping secrets
⋆ chapter three: entry 1326
general story disclaimers: reader can be considered a peni parker variant, the way peter 616 and peter b. parker kind of are. additionally, the fic's spider noir is from shattered dimensions (but i give him a trench coat because i can!!), but the main cast + marvel characters are still involved.
reader's 'peni-parker' influence based off of peni in edge of the spiderverse #5 2014, not the movie peni. events, of course, are altered.
# taglist. ask to be added / removed !
@.shycreatorreview @.facelessgetolover @.mileskisser @.1abi @.kenyummy @.selvyyr @.systemix
I decided to create a masterpost or two with all the reblogs that I like in hopes that when someone sends out the “help me find that post” I can find it faster. It will be added to slowly because I do not have the patience to do it all at once. Also in no particular order of preference.
Keep in mind none of these posts are my works and I do not claim them as such.
If you see *** they are really good prompts with lots of reblogs.
Will be edited later, last updated: 3-10-25
Multi-story masterlists
dcxdpdrabbles
Hdgnj
Tu-turu-turah
Somnoir
Chaoticwriting
Specific Story lists
Jason is Catnip to Danny
Hyena Danny
Finally Getting Help
Wrong Robin
Badger Day
Man has needs
Almanac
Take out for Dummies
Danny is just some guy
Changling AU (part 5, other part links at bottom of post)
Fast Car Driver Danny
Haunted Car
Harmless Series
Don’t eat anything
Hero Tweets
Just a Bite
Batfam & Danny
Twitter AU
Coffee Heart
Ellie-centric
Ellie realizes how dangerous Danny’s home is
Danny’s Rescues from the Infinite Realms
Green Lanturn & crew stuck in IR
Dead on Main
Jason courting Danny with a casserole
Overprotective Fenton parents shovel talk
Danny courts Jason by giving him wine cups made from the Joker’s kneecaps
Jason becomes a Ghost Summoner after giving Danny food***
Dream Lover***
Soulmate summoning ring gone wrong
Dead Tired
Coffeeshop accident
Dead Serious
Dead Silent
Danny kills the joker with his thighs
Danny on the run from the GIW
Superman startles Danny and gets a concussion***
Danny In Gotham
Sleepwalker Danny who escapes all traps
Unknowing Fae Danny works at coffee shop
Danny pretends to be a Vampire***
Feral McGee
Danny only gets a Vacation from work in Gotham
Danny seems like an Oracle of Delphi***
The GAV affected by Fear Toxin
Tucker streams while Danny does what Danny does in the background***
Danny is kidnapped(?) by Batman***
Danny gets hired for a money laundering front***
Portal is built in Gotham, not Amity
Naga Danny
Villain Danny
Danny’s obsession is twisted, forcing him to be a villain
Danny teaches heroes their mistakes by being the villain***
Adopted Danny (as in not Bio Fenton)
Danny is Hal Jordan’s son
Harley asks Batman to take away her son
Harvey Dent is Danny’s bio parent
Danny adopted by Bruce Wayne
Danny distribution system
Danny makes a sales pitch to join the Batfam
Reincarnated Danny
They wake up as Talons
Reincarnation
Clockwork reincarnated as Alfred
Misunderstanding’s that end in chaos
High Danny mistakes Batman for Jack
Mis-text-derstanding
Summoning Danny
Number is not in service
Danny: Please get that stalker (Ra’s) away from me
Demon Twin/Brothers
Damian is normal by Amity standards
Maybe(?) his lost twin
Nyssa steals Danny
Danny undercover in Amity
Jazz decided she wanted a brother
Danny’s Obsession to beat Damian
Tim Twins/Brothers
Danny and Tim are half-siblings
Danny sleep teleports to another dimension
Jason and Danny are brothers
Jason is a Baby ghost, adopts babier ghost Danny***
Ghost King Danny
Danny needs to take care of the Lazarus pits
Danny finds out there is a Ghost LOA
Miscellaneous
Danny possesses the president
Danny takes Jason’s online cooking class
Danny forgot what is regular human
Jack was a hitman named Phantom
Ghost Calls
Danny & Jason have the same scars
Superman was supposed to wait for the JLD
Water Core Tim
Fenton Driving curse still applies
Danny asks Wonder Woman to make him a grave on Themyscria***
Kryptonite is actually trapped souls
Danny and self-fulfilling prophecy
Danny pretends to be a demigod son of Hades
Danny gifts Red Robin a jar with Ra’s eyes
Vlad Cloning Danny was actually a much worse offense, breaks oldest ghost law
Amity got put back in the wrong place after the Pariah Dark fight.
Jason involuntarily taken to the ghost hospital
Phantom Letters
Danny learns Astral magic
Jazz the Author
Danny makes environmental cleaning ecto-tech***
Miscellaneous Angst
GIW succeeds in shooting the portal
Loki falls through to the IR and is adopted by Danny
Danny was Eldritch the whole time
Danny gets sprayed with a chemical where he hallucinates the person he hates
Demon!AU (with Art)
I have this scene in my head of a giant DC/batfam crossover where everyone in the batfam inherits Bruce's adoption tendencies and he has no clue what to do about it.
Like one day, the batfam find a homeless Peter Parker, end up doing a DNA test, and bam, it's Dick's son. He's around 14, and has that same sunny disposition as his father. The Wayne family has grown by one and they couldn't be happier.
Except... Jason has been acting weird lately...
At first, it was a little weird because he had been spending more time around the manor to see Peter. And then he stopped. Completely cut contact out of nowhere. Dick confronts him and finds a 16 year old Danny Phantom hiding behind his brother with the brightest, green eyed glare Dicks ever seen.
A month later a French class visits.
It's their last trip of their middle school year before highschool. 17 year old Damian Wayne walks in with a 12 year old Marinette who's small, nervous, and is so smart she skipped a grade. Damian is happy to announce that he has a new daughter.
Bruce promptly chokes on air.
DP x DC Prompt.
Deadserious
.
>Danny had a problem. He thought he handled it well. He couldn't tell his civillian boyfriend of his half-dead status.
He definitely couldn't let him find out by being summoned by some culty wannabes who wanted to rule the world.
Easy solution: Volunteer to be the sacrifice, turn his eyes green, and act like a Royal prick and powerful being. Get rescued by one of Gothams 50 vigilantes. And claim no memory.
Boom, secret identity underwraps.
He didn't expect everyone to treat him so fragile after.
>
Damian also had a problem. That problem, being his civilian boyfriend, was obviously possessed by a spirit of the ghastly ghost king and was utterly clueless about it.
And it was all his fault.
Danny Fenton was the next June Moore/ Enchantress. Except he was hosting one of the most powerful beings in the universe.
And that lovable idiot had no damn idea about it.